


The cat and the fourth wall

by mrua7



Series: Strange, scary stories and the Man from U.N.C.L.E. [29]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 18:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8296246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrua7/pseuds/mrua7
Summary: Something strange happens with the house cat at UNCLE headquarters





	

The prompt:  
  


 

The blond Russian agent charged down one of the many halls at UNCLE headquarters in New York City, his gun drawn and ready.

Above him red and green lights were flashing although the klaxons were silent.

The entire complex was on lockdown, everyone was sequestered where ever they were, except for the Section II and III agents who like Illya, were on the prowl.

Kuryakin had his communicator pen in his left hand, listening carefully to the transponder signal was blip-blip-blipping away.

It was in response to a homing device that was leading him to his quarry. Illya breathed preemptive sigh of relief; he was right there.

As the Russian turned the corner, he ran straight into his partner who was unexpectedly standing there, his gun in hand as well. In Napoleon's hand was a blue collar, a cat collar to be precise, with the homing disc attached to it.

Illya hissed a curse, something non-translatable to the American.

“Where did you find that Napoleon?”

“Right here on the floor. Which means he's going to be harder to find now.”

“Brilliant deduction,”Illya snapped.

“Hey no need to be sarcastic. We’ll find him.”

“Napoleon, cats can hide in the most improbable places, and here in headquarters there are hundreds, if not more. His name after all translates to 'spy' in Russian, and he is being invisible like a spy...and a cat. Without that homing device, I am afraid it is going to be a near impossible task in locating him.”

“Don’t be going all Sisyphean on me tovarisch. Won’t Shpion * the cat just show up when he’s ready...and why are you in such a panic over a missing cat? He’s had free run of headquarters ever since he arrived. I don’t get it.”

“Yes he has had free run, except in the labs and therein lies the problem. He got into Research and Development.”

Napoleon swallowed hard. “He did?”

“He did. However, now is not the time to discuss the what, how or why’s; we need to find him as he has become potentially dangerous.”

The partners began walking along the grey corridor as they  continued to speak.

“You’re kidding?Dangerous? Maybe we should change the search to shoot to kill,” Napoleon muttered. He wasn’t exactly a fan of cats

“No! Sleep darts only, if needed.” Illya’s voice went up in pitch. “I said he was _potentially_ dangerous, not dangerous.”

Solo was taken aback by the emotion in his partner’s voice. “Well maybe we...you, need to start thinking like a cat. You’re good at that. Where do you think he might go, I mean his collar being in this corridor does narrow down the search parameters. He couldn’t have gotten on the elevator as he would have been seen. He can’t get into the stairwell, and someone would have seen him get into a room.

“That is true my friend,” Illya looked at his wristwatch, snapping his fingers. “It is nearly five o’clock. I know where he might be...Mr. Waverly’s office. It is Shpion's feeding time.”

Napoleon did a quick hop, turning and following his partner who had dashed towards Waverly’s conference room.

As the doors opened they spotted the siamese cat sitting upright on the conference table with a small plate of moist cat food in front of him.

Alexander Waverly was reaching for his microphone when he looked up at his agents.

“Good news gentlemen, the cat has been located. I was just going to make an announcement to end the search.

“Sir, you may want to step away from Shpion,” Illya warned.

“Step back you say. Why?”

“He was exposed to a THRUSH concoction in the lab. Close proximity to him might be a hazard.”

“He’s not permitted in the lab. What happened?” Waverly did as requested and stepped away from the cat, who was seemingly ignoring the food.

“Yes sir, but one of the new techs, a Miss Wendy Wacko, let him into the lab where he subsequently broke a beaker containing a THRUSH formula which was being testing. Shpion drank some of it.”

“What the devil? How has it affected him?” Waverly barked. He wasn’t happy about this at all.

During this conversation the cat merely sat there just blinking and nothing more. Yet as a big black fly buzzed near, Shpion’s bottom jaw suddenly extended out like a cash register drawer, a long lizard-like tongue shot out of his mouth, catching the fly.

He swallowed it, and seemingly winked at the men.

Waverly, Solo and Kuryakin stood speechless.

“Maybe it’s time to tranquilize him,” Napoleon finally spoke up.

Waverly harrumphed. “Yes, good idea.” He drew his own gun and aimed it at the cat, darting him without a moment’s hesitation.

The lockdown was cancelled and a team from R&D arrived with a cage to remove Shpion, taking him back downstairs to be examined.

“Mr. Kuryakin, though you are not in charge of the labs, if you would be so kind as to have Miss...Wacko is it? Have the young lady meet with Security to discuss her comportment in this matter.”

“Yes sir. If it is all right with you, I would like to be involved in the examination and testing of the cat.”

“Yes, by all means please do so. His condition is most distressing and I hope he can be saved.”

“As do I sir.” Both men were well known cat lovers, and Shpion’s condition was obviously a great concern to them.

Napoleon and Illya were dismissed and left the office side by side.

“You know tovarisch, you can’t make this stuff up can you?”

“Ah yes but you can and they do,” he pointed upwards, referring to the powers that be who seemed to control their lives.

“So they wouldn’t hurt Shpion would they?” Solo asked.

“No,” Illya shook his head. “I suppose this was just a device to set us on edge. Halloween is approaching after all.

“Mm-huh,” Napoleon agreed. I hear they’re planning on some sort of round robin for Halloween on their writing site. I think it's called Section VII, Live Journal."

"Ah, propaganda...how appropriate." Illya paused, looking upwards again. “Would you take it easy on us for a bit, please?”

They continued walking, Illya heading towards the lab and Napoleon to their office to do what needed to be done. This was but a hiccup in their day, granted an odd one, but still nothing of significance in the scope of things.

Long story short, of course Shpion recovered unscathed, with no residual effects. After all the powers that be may like to torture Illya and Napoleon, but they are cat lovers ...

  
  
  
* Shpion is the name of the office cat borrowed from Otherhawk.  
  
No animals were harmed in the writing of this story...


End file.
